Dean Was My First Crush: One Shot
by xiS eviL
Summary: Nyx got into the hunting business because of her step-mom and dad RIP turns out step-mom and John Winchester were old friends, making Nyx the Winchester boys' childhood buddies. Now Dean & Nyx are reunited something sparks in the smoky bar.


Cigarette smoke swirled in the air; gliding out of chapped lips like dirty sheet ghosts and danced under irritated nostrils. The bar had dragged into the late hours of the night and yet no one occupying the joint wanted to leave; more likely none of them found the bed of a motel room too appealing – I'm no exception to the rest of them.

I could tell that every tattered soul in the bar was a hunter, most coming for a drink after a gore-successful night or going over a job that they are tracking/researching.

My hunt had gone as gory as blood could run, I had sliced up the shape shifter with my step-mother's best silver but it was too bad that I couldn't revive the shifter's victim; at least the bourbon warmed me up some. I kept telling myself that it came with the job and I should be used to this but letting an innocent person die was something that no one could get used to – not if you still have your soul anyway.

I ran my scared hand through my choppy hair, it was getting longer and I needed to cut it again; the silver knife in my pocket started to burn as though it actually had an effect on me.

I was so wrapped up in the dilemma with my hair that I didn't even turn around when I heard the faint tinkle of the front door's bell. I just tilted me head back and drained the chilled glass and let the ball of liquid fire rolled down my throat and set the pit of my stomach on fire.

Then a voice, a low groggy voice rung through the smoky air and licked the back of my neck like a friendly mutt. I turned on the barstool and it gave a harsh cry. There was a tall man with his elbows propped on the counter of the bar, I saw his dark brown hair that shagged in his face but my eyes slid down to his jean clad ass.

"Sam?" I called.

He barely jumped but his eyes flashed to me, wide with wonder if he was seeing a ghost that was just being a bitch to him. "Nyx!" He exclaimed before throwing an arm around my neck and I slammed against his brick wall of a chest, he was warm too, like the bricks have been soaking in the sun.

My scrawny arms wrap around his waist, pressing my face closer to Sam Winchester's chest. "It's been too long." I smiled and took a step back, my palms resting on him. "Wasn't I taller than you at one point?" I asked, cocking my head to the side.

Sam gave a crooked grin, proud to be taller because once upon a time when we were kids I could bring him down in two seconds flat and shove a clump of dirt in his mouth; for a moment he looked as though he was going to take me outside and get revenge for his nine-year-old-self.

"Yeah, how've you been?" He asked; his large, callused hands planted on my narrow shoulders.

"Living the dream had a long day and need another hug." I confessed and slammed myself back against Sam, this time he gave my ribcage a great big squeeze. "Are you following a job?" I asked, pulling back and hopping back on my stool.

"Actually, we just finished a job." He said matter of fact.

"We?" I repeated; looking over my shoulder and out the window was that sleek black chariot resting in a spot in the lonely lot. "Oooooo."

Then, the elder brother walked in like he owned the world and that afterglow of a successful hunt; the monster is extinguished and the innocent are only mentally damaged. He, too, had changed since I saw him as a funny looking teenager who thought he was the most badass rebel. He'd gotten taller, not as tall as Sam though, the cotton green shirt under the worn leather jacket stretched over perfectly sculpted muscles, his jaw was squared, and darker hair that imitated a bit longer version of a military cut.

"Dean." I called to him, his hazel eyes saw me but didn't recognize me; though, I guess I couldn't blame him, we hadn't seen each other since I was fourteen and it had been twelve years.

"Uh…." He stared at me, hoping that I wasn't one of his one night stands and he promised that they'd get married. Clearly, I was still the flat chest, acne faced that he'd play poker with while his dad and my step-mom would work together.

I rolled my eyes and walked over to him, rolling up the right sleeve of my jacket to show off the barbwire pattern scars wrapping up my forearm like a boa constrictor. The light bulb went off in his head and another glint was added to his brightening eyes, he was just having a good night.

"Damn, Nyx." He grinned devilishly, strutting up to me; I didn't even get up to deliver a punch to his bicep, it was rock solid.

"In the flesh," I smirked, rolling down my sleeve to hide the scars from the rest of the bar. "Sam said you guys finished up a job?"

"Yeah, vampires didn't know what hit them." Dean boasted, his chest swelling with a bit of pride.

I nodded in fascination, "So there are still some of them out there." I mumbled to myself. "So how about you boys have a drink with me, I could use some company."

Catching up wasn't filled with rosy and cheerful memories, discussing how John had passed and whatnot, but it was so good to see those two again. We had three drinks before Sam headed out, not before giving me another squeeze on the ribs and walked out, taking Dean's beauty with him.

"He's grown into quite the man." I said to myself, my teeth touching the rim of my glass.

"Hey, that's my brother." Dean growled over his Captain Morgan.

I smiled at him, looking corky. "Oh, don't worry you've gotten very handsome compared to that pizza faced brat."

Dean smirked again, I had stroked his ego a bit but, then, it was wiped clean off to realize that I had insulted him. "Hey…."

I burst out laughing, "I'm just teasing!"

Then, the table in the shadows of the bar had grown quiet; Dean and I stared at each other for a long moment, we were just looking at each other like we were trying to read the other's mind. Though, the things that have been lurking in our minds it was probably best that we couldn't do that.

Dean reached across the table and his fingers, rough and dry, touched the top of my scared hand. I didn't have to read minds to know that he was thinking of the night I received such a bizarre scar. He and I thought we were on top of the world like most kids do, we were stupid and tried to sneak into a junkyard to steal scraps so we could make more weapons of our own; we had lost interest in playing poker.

And, like the little asses we were, stumbled across some nasty guard dogs. We booked it out of there, hopping the eight-foot high fence and my right arm got tangled in the barbwire – the rest is what was left behind on my flesh. Of all the things that could happen to me, it was something… normal compared to our lives. John and my step-mom chewed Dean out, just because he was a year older that meant he was responsible for me; I've been harboring some guilt ever since.

I flipped my palm upward and gripped Dean's long fingers. "You're thinking about it." I pointed out.

"Eh." He shrugged and leaned back against his chair, being Mr. Cool all over again.

I rolled my eyes, "Don't pull that tough, stoic shit around me; you tried when we were kids, didn't work then and it sure as hell doesn't work now." I stuck my tongue at him.

Dean's eyes hardened on me, evil glinting in his pupils. "It worked long enough for me to steal your first kiss."

My lips burned as my mind brought out the file of my first kiss, Dean Winchester. "Yeah, I steal yours in return!" I shot back.

Dean coughed a laugh, I had him there. "Yeah-yeah, though you did have braces at the time…."

"What's that got to do with anything?" I snapped.

Dean reached over again, poking my lip upward to show my straight white teeth. "Ah." He smiled.

"You ass," I grunted and took a chomp at his finger.

He jerked the tip of his finger out of my teeth before I had the chance to bite it off. "You a biter, Nyx?" He asked with that roughish smirk.

"Dean… are you getting at what I think–"

"Nothing," He surrendered. "That is if you want it to be nothing, I can make it something very interesting."

"We're childhood friends!" I protested, a strange fire igniting in my belly but it wasn't like me indulging myself with bourbon. Though, then again, he was my first serious crush and he knew it; and for some reason I had a feeling that I was his, not that I was trying to think to highly of myself it was just that we spent a lot of time together and been through quite a few stupid things.

"But we're consenting adults." He shot back. I eyed him carefully, his eyes weren't swimming in booze – the man could hold his liquor.

The motel, coincidently both of us were staying at, wasn't too far. We walked back to my room, though Dean didn't make it easy for me to unlock the door, his hand running over my stomach under my shirt and his teeth nipping at my ear. But I was able to shove open the door, it slammed behind us and we were plunged into the darkness of my room.

I did try to turn on the lamp but… it shattered on the floor and yet I didn't care. I was swept up in the stifling heat of passion, dragged deep in the sea of ecstasy.

Our clothes were peeled from our backs in seconds and laid forgotten on the floor; I had even ripped Dean's shirt at the collar while in the frenzy.

It was like he knew what I wanted, down to the last detail. His lips skimmed my reddening flesh, his teeth nipped the soft spots that made me squeak to his enjoyment, his hands touched me with a combination of roughness and tenderness.

The tangled of limbs under the sheets, sweat glistening on beat red skin, moans and needy gasps for air shattered the silence in the air. The fear of someone that could hear us through the paper thin walls didn't even surface in my conscious mind, my hands were too busy running over every curve of muscles that tensed and rolled and my mouth getting a taste of his soft, sun slapped flesh.

I don't even remember falling asleep; I only opened my eyes to see light dancing behind the curtains – naked in my motel bed. My head turned to the window, my body radiating heat and in a slight twist of soreness; I arched my back and stretched my leg out to the right where my foot nudged a toned calf.

I jolted in bed and looked down at Dean, naked and his eyes softly shut. He nestled his head into the matted feather pillow and his lips slightly parted. Yeah, I had a night of fiery passion with my childhood friend and had been added to his one-night-stand-list.

I groaned, flopping back on the lumpy mattress and rubbed my eyes with the back of my scarred hand. Dean shifted next to me and grunted awake. "Mmm. Morning." he breathed.

I turned my head, my forearm resting on the pillow above my head. "Hey…."

Dean pushed himself up to rest on his elbow, looking down on me with a crooked smirk; his eyes caressing me in a devilish gaze. "I think this crosses us off being just friends."

I wanted to make the excuse that I was drunk, I wanted to but I had no choice but to admit that… wanted to have sex with Dean Winchester. I wanted him… so badly.

I sighed, looked back at the sunlight trying to find me behind the curtains. Then, I felt Dean's fingers wrap around my slim forearm, I turned back to see him lean down for his lips to skim over the slightly darker scars that clashed against my paling flesh.

His smoothed lips sent chills down my arm and filled me with vivid memories of our night; I pulled my knees up to my torso, the sheets slipping downward. Even though he had the chance to get another peak at my exposure his eyes remained on my face as he continued to run his lips up and down my forearm.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?"

I scowled at him, "You say that to every girl I'm sure."

"Nope."

"Bet you say that too."

Dean's mouth captured mine to shut me up, his tongue poked at mine making me sink further into the uneven mattress. His knee wedged between mine, his arms slipped under my back and his fingers curled over the tops of my shoulders. He pulled away looking down at me, "I tell the girls that in order to get into their pants, why would I tell you this now?" He dipped his head to kiss my neck where there were stink some indents of his teeth that he left behind last night. "You're beautiful, Nyx and I'm not just saying that."

My face was dusted a deep rose color.

"Come on, I can't lie to you. You'll bust my balls if I did."

I couldn't help but giggle, Dean took that as his chance to place his mouth back on my neck, right over the spot that made the air get trapped in my lungs; his damp tongue slide up under my chin, causing my head to dig back in the matted down pillow. Then, there was a harsh knock on the door freezing both of us and we looked at the door as if to see if it would bloom a mouth and a pair of eyes and say "hello".

"Dean, Nyx." Sam called.

My hand clamped over my mouth to shove a laugh back down my throat. "Kinda a bad time Sammy." Dean barked, nuzzling his head back into the crook of my neck.

I squirmed like a fish out of water under Dean's weight and was able to shove him off of me; he hit the floor with a thundering "oof!" I scrambled over the motel floor, pulling up my panties and yanked my Deep Purple t-shirt over my head and swung open the door just as Dean zipped his pants.

"Hey, Sammy." I smile at him.

Sam's doe eyes took in me and then at his brother. "Why does this seem so damn wrong?" He rolled his eyes and shuttered a bit.

I sprinted for my jeans on the floor, Sam was still the little nerd that I wrestled and he didn't need to see my poka-dot panties! "Sorry Sam." I was still very tempted to use the "I was smashed" excuse.

"Is there something you need?" Dean asked in a bit of a growl for his brother interrupting us.

"Turns out there's a job in the next town over." Sam reported; I saw the paper in his hand and my heart leaped a bit, not in the way it did last night but it still jumped.

"That's it?" Dean asked, looking like he was about to push Sam out of my motel room so we could regain privacy.

"What's the job, Sam?" I asked, a bit eager to jump into a job with the Winchester boys.

Sam shot a smile in my direction, that grin made me feel like he was a brother to me as well; can't say the same for Dean though. I tugged Sam to sit with me at the table, the only piece of furniture that was untouched by Dean and me.

Dean grumbled under his breath, turning his back on us to snatch up his shirt and examined the rip in it. He threw a look over at me and written on his face was, "I guess you really like it rough." I flipped him off and turned back to Sam as he briefed me on what he found, due to the fact that he got no sleep last night.

Dean tossed his tattered shirt off to the corner and went back to the table; there were only two chairs so he stood looking over my shoulder, his arms on either side of me. His chin resting on my shoulder and when he thought Sam wasn't looking he took a bite out of my shoulder to make me squirm in my chair; I elbowed him in the ribs.

Dean chuckled; Sam shot a glare at his brother. "Go on." I urged him and elbowed Dean again, he would only back off for so long.


End file.
